


why can't it wait 'til morning?

by LoversAntiquities



Series: Codas [41]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Post-Series, coming home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/pseuds/LoversAntiquities
Summary: The first night—because Heaven has a night and day, and seasons, apparently—Dean can’t sleep.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Codas [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/247642
Comments: 36
Kudos: 390
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	why can't it wait 'til morning?

The first night—because Heaven has a night and day, and seasons, apparently—Dean can’t sleep. Shrouded in his bedding and drenched in moonlight spilling in through the window, he stares at the curtains and pulls the covers tighter around his throat.

His home—a cottage a few miles from his parents—sits on a few acres of land, backed up to a lake with a dock and a dinghy; fishing poles hang by the back door, and his waders drape over the porch railing, still drying. The perfect autumn day, with the temperature just warm enough to open the windows and doors, but not quite cool to close them at night.

And still, surrounded by all of his things and all of the people he loves within driving distance, he can’t sleep. Blinking, Dean turns his face into the pillow and tries to forget how he ended up here, all of the time he could’ve spent ribbing Sam in his old age, could’ve watched him and Eileen pop out kids, could’ve maybe settled down himself, if he gave himself the chance.

Instead, he’s here, in his eternal resting place, and he can’t relax. For hours, Dean lies in the dark with the breeze blowing through the pines, and his body won’t relax, his thoughts won’t cease. A few hundred yards away, Sam is probably asleep with Eileen at his side, and everyone else he’s ever known has long since settled in for the night. But he’s alone. Even in death, he’s alone.

Sometime around three—or so the clock on the wall says—someone knocks. Barely audible, but a knock, coming from the other side of the house. Dean takes it as an excuse to leave and shrugs on his robe, cinching the belt tight around his waist. Probably someone who didn't bother to visit him during the day, or some lost soul intent to taunt him for the rest of eternity.

Rubbing his eyes, Dean wanders down the hall and into the kitchen, then toward the foyer. A head of unruly hair and a lifeless tan coat meet him on the other side of the screen door, along with the saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Dean’s heart makes a break for it before his body can even process it, and tears spring to his eyes, his throat constricted.

Rather than wait for Dean to open the door, Castiel lets himself in, letting the latch click as it slams shut. And Dean just stands there and watches him, too awestruck to do much other than stare. “Dean,” Castiel says eventually and crosses the space, entering Dean’s orbit. All at once, the tears spill, and Dean falls into his arms, gathered up in the purest love he’s ever known. “Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean manages. Digging his nails into the back of Castiel’s coat, he breathes in, inhaling the scent of sunflowers and wheat. “You’re real?”

“I’m real,” Castiel rumbles. He strokes through Dean’s hair, fingertips warm and soothing, like a balm to a nerve. “Jack rescued me the minute he took the throne. I’ve been guiding him on how to restructure Heaven.” He stops to nuzzle his nose into Dean’s throat. “Do you like it?”

“You kidding?” Pulling away, Dean wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Better than that soul sucking vortex it was before. I can—I’m free, Cas. It’s just—I wish I had longer.”

Sighing, Castiel nods and strokes a hand down Dean’s arm. They’re still close, close enough that Dean can feel the heat on him. Here, Dean can see his wings, black and billowing in the dark of the room. He pets over the arch closest to Castiel’s back, and Castiel offers him more space, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “It would’ve been nice to see the fruits of your labor,” Castiel says, “but your death was not in vain. The people you’ve met, they’ll always remember you, and they’ll always hold a spot for you in their heart.”

Dean sniffles and worms his way back into Castiel’s embrace. “I love you,” he says before he can stop himself, before he can chicken out like he always did. Against him, Castiel stiffens, then gradually softens. He hugs Dean tighter, his wings wrapping around him like a second skin. “Wanted to live up to what you thought of me, but I never got a chance. But I can—I can make it up to you here. I can love you here, and I—”

“I know.” Castiel tips his chin up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean tilts his head ever so slightly until he finds Castiel’s lips, and a spark hits him the moment Castiel sighs, the moment Castiel’s wingtips touch his ankles. Love—this is love, requited and true. “The moment I felt your soul depart, I wanted to run to meet you,” Castiel says, “but I wanted you to see our creation first. I wanted you to experience this place as it was always meant to be, and then I’d come to you.”

“Well, you’re here now.” With trembling hands, Dean cradles Castiel’s nape, watching Castiel’s smile dim. “What’s wrong?”

Slowly, Castiel blows out a breath. “I forgot that years ago, angels weren’t permitted to wander individual heavens. Jack is lenient, though.” A rush of blue courses through Castiel’s feathers. “If you want me, I’ll stay. But this is it for me, Dean. I chose you, and I still love you, and I’m prepared to live with that for eternity if you don't—”

“Just…” Pressing a finger to Castiel’s lips, Dean ducks his head. “Just shut up. Never said I was gonna show you the door.”

Castiel’s eyes brighten, and not just from the tears. “So I can—”

“Yeah.” Dean pulls him into another kiss, tasting the salt on his lips, the love on his tongue. “Live with me. Just—don’t leave again, you jackass. Barely got time to say it back before you got yanked sideways.”

Soft, Castiel laughs. “I promise, I’ll stay by your side until the universe ceases to be.”

Good. Warmth spreads through Dean’s chest. A new wave of tears spills down his cheeks, dripping off his chin; Castiel wipes them away with his thumb, and Dean laughs, hating how his heart pangs. “I should’ve told you years ago,” Dean says, forlorn. “Seriously, years. But God kept jerking us around—”

“I know.” Castiel shushes him, his hands to Dean’s hips. “That was then, and this is now. Are you tired?”

_Yes_ , Dean thinks. _Always_. “Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, tugging at Castiel’s belt loops. “You won’t believe how much I missed you.”

And with a serene smile and an even warmer kiss, Castiel agrees. “I already know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not okay and I probably won't be for a while, but here's my attempt at coping. I just wanna say, to everyone who's ever read my fics and left kudos and comments, I love and appreciate all of you, even though I rarely ever reply. That's on me and not on y'all, I just suck at communicating. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm 20k currently into my Pinefest for this year, and I'll also be writing in the Mid-Winter 5k! We're all in pain and we probably all wish it ended differently, but despite it all, our boys are happy, even if we don't like just how they ended up there. 
> 
> I love this show so much, don't mind me, just gonna cry for the 10th time today. As always, I'm always on Twitter if y'all wanna follow and chat! 
> 
> Title is from the Phil Collins song, which is about as sappy a destiel song as it gets.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tragidean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/loversantiquity).


End file.
